Truancy Origins by Isamu Fukui Page A

his desk like a wayward beach ball. Umasi knew that the teacher was punishing him for being exhausted; putting one’s head down in class was an invitation to be called upon, a simple tactic that was uniformly effective in getting students to act awake. Renewed pity surged through Umasi as Zen glared at the cage of rats.
    â€œTheir eyes are red,” Zen murmured. Indeed, the rats’ eyes
were
blood-red.
    â€œYes,” the teacher conceded, sounding disappointed as Zen’s head dipped a few inches. “Anything else?”
    â€œThey’re white,” Zen added, his head sinking a bit further.
    â€œCorrect,” the teacher admitted. “These are albino rats. Can anyone tell me what that means?”
    Seeing a chance to divert the teacher’s attention from his brother, Umasi raised his hand—predictably the only one to go up in the entire sleepy classroom. The teacher didn’t hesitate to take the bait.
    â€œYes, Umasi?” The teacher pointed an approving finger at him.
    â€œIt’s a condition caused by recessive genes. It can be inherited from the parents, or sometimes occur through random mutation,” Umasi explained as Zen’s head flopped silently down onto the table once more.
    â€œVery good.” The teacher nodded. “And what does it do?”
    â€œIt prevents the body from producing pigment, which is what gives it its color,” Umasi quoted the textbook, watching Zen lazily raise his own textbook to shield his sleeping head from view. “Aside from sensitivity to sunlight and some vision disabilities, albinos are just as physically fit as regular members of their species.”
    â€œExcellent,” the teacher exulted, turning back to face the class as a whole. “Albinism can afflict mammals, reptiles, fish, birds, and amphibians. Individuals with albinism usually appear white, and in many species the eyes appear red due to the underlying blood vessels showing through.”
    The teacher’s predatory gaze began to sweep around the room, coming dangerously close to spotting Zen’s head buried in his textbook. Thinking fast, Umasi raised his hand again. The motion caused the boy next to Umasi to mutter “suck-up” under his breath, but Umasi ignored the snideremark, as the sudden movement had succeeded in catching the teacher’s eye.
    â€œAre there albino people?” Umasi asked. He knew the answer, but out of desperation had seized upon the first question to come to mind.
    â€œAs a matter of fact, there are, though you’ll seldom see them, especially in this City.” The teacher pursed her lips, as if discussing a distasteful subject. “In human albinos, the eyes are usually blue more often than red. Human eyes are typically deep enough to cover the blood vessels, though there are exceptions in certain types of lighting.”
    Umasi continued to jot down notes mechanically, keeping an eye on his brother’s condition out of the corner of his eye. What the teacher said next, however, stopped Umasi dead in his tracks.
    â€œHowever, all albinos regardless of eye color have significant vision problems that make them unfit for education, and thus unfit for normal life in this City,” the teacher finished. “It’s unfortunate, of course, but students must conform to education and not the other way around.”
    A moment of tense silence followed, indicating that some students in the class disagreed with the teacher—though no one cared enough to speak up. Then the silence was shattered by an outburst from the most unexpected of persons.
    â€œUnfit for life?” Umasi demanded. “How can you say that?”
    For a moment the teacher was taken aback at a model student arguing with her, but she quickly rallied and responded with a note of anger in her voice.
    â€œEducation is the most important aspect of any child’s life. There is no place in this City for an educational